


First Time Together

by Millennium_Fae



Series: Enansal [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Asexuality, Dubious Consent, F/M, First Time, Internalized Acephobia, Other, Sex Repulsion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-05-18 01:18:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5892541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Millennium_Fae/pseuds/Millennium_Fae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Many years after the events of DA/Trespasser, Lavellan and Solas decide to have sex for the first time. (Trigger warning for depictions of intense sex repulsion, panic, and dubious consent).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning Night

“Do you have a prophylactic?”

“Eh? Can’t we just … will ourselves into temporary sterility, or something?”

“No,” Solas replied, looking unimpressed. “At least, not with the materials we have on hand. What do folk use for contraceptives nowadays, anyhow?”

Lavellan bit her lip in consideration. She had pitifully low experience with sexual intimacy, so it took some effort to recall what little information she’d ever heard. “Thin coverings made out of animal intestine skin, I think. Most don’t bother.”

Solas made an incredulous sound, and Lavellan snorted at his reaction. “Disgusting.”

“Well, you think of some bright ideas, then. I’m running by the seat of my ass, here.”

Solas shifted from where he sat on the bed. Lavellan lay beside him, leaning against a pile of cushions. Both elves remained fully clothed except for their feet, dressed in comfortable sleeping wear in Lavellan’s case, and roughspun undergarments on Solas.

It was Lavellan’s bright idea to instigate this. Both elves knew beforehand that between the two of them, sex was far from their minds at any given point of the day. Lavellan in particular has never felt any desire or needs. Solas had agreed, with the added addendum that he enjoyed the act nevertheless, although he was never compelled to pursue it.

So naturally, the two never became sexual intimate in all the years they’ve known each other. Which suited the both of them just fine.

But one evening, perhaps borne out of boredom, (or curiosity), Lavellan proposed a … _night_  … together. Maybe just once. Because why not. And so on. 

And Solas had agreed.

So when the day’s affairs had all been managed and dealt with, Lavellan took Solas by the hand and led him onto the bed. They kissed, just like the many times they’ve done so before; light, slow, and loving. 

And then Solas decided to deepen the kiss with the addition of his tongue by gently prying apart Lavellan’s lips with the tip. Lavellan allowed him entry, and the two explored each other’s mouths like they never have before. Lavellan found it … mildly enjoyable, but hardly exciting. Stressful, more like.

After a few minutes of exploration, Solas pulled back and gazed back at Lavellan with an evaluating stare, as if he could sense her slight trepidation. She said nothing, and instead leaned back in to redirect her mouth to nibble upon Solas’ jaw and ear, her hands drifting over his lower back and flank. 

She realized that directing an act was better than receiving it. Now, she had full control over what sensations she’d allow across her skin, or enter her mouth. She tickled her tongue across the tip of his ear, which earned her a soft sigh, his breath a warm gust over her bare shoulders.

This close, Lavellan could see the light fuzz that dotted his jawline, and a few small freckles. She could smell a spiced, woody scent that she’d come to associate with Solas, and feel the warmth radiate off his soft skin. If her tongue wasn’t being assaulted by the unappealing taste of bare flesh, she might have been enjoying herself.

By then, Lavellan was running out of ideas. She tried to extend her kisses as long as possible without risking Solas being bored, but she had no idea how to proceed from this point and her heart began to pound from nervousness. A part of her, slowly growing in size, was wondering if whether she hadn’t made a huge mistake. Did she WANT this to continue? And if it did, what would she get out of this?

But she was the one to bring it up. And she didn’t want to back out of something before it even really started, especially if it was her idea in the first place.

Lavellan felt Solas’ warm hands on her shoulders, bringing her face-to-face with Solas’ grey eyes. He kept silent, seemingly waiting for her to say something. 

Talking was better than licking at Solas’ face, so she gratefully turned the topic towards schematics and other mundane, bedroom-related concerns.

“There’s many possibilities,” Solas offered. “And it’s not just to do with the risk of pregnancy. To avoid sickness, we simply don’t make internal contact. That’s not as limiting as you might think.”

Lavellan pulled a face at being given a lesson, like a young teen. “Thanks for the lecture, professor. Is my cluelessness that obvious?”

“Hardly, some things should be said regardless of company.”

“You’ve obviously gone around the bush many more times than I have. So what normally happens? Do we pull up a tablet and pen some diagrams? Plan out an itinerary?”

“If you wish,” Solas gave a small smirk at that, and Lavellan scoffed. “It’s not that unreasonable. Falling half-clothed into the dirt and exchanging nothing but a few grunts works for some. Mostly between people who’ve lain together many times beforehand. It’s hard enough trying to take off a stranger’s clothing and fumble with unfamiliar belts and ties; planning can help a lot.”

Lavellan fell her head back with a sigh. She knew that the night probably won’t be the passionate, poetic lovemaking that others might covet, but she didn’t want to be made a fool of, either. “Then plan away, love. And rouse me when you’ve got it all down. Make sure to let me know which hole you’ll be diving into.”

“Such petulance.” Solas laid his head upon Lavellan’s stomach. “In any event, I think it’s safe to assume that the both of us are free from various itches or bumps, unless you’ve anything to declare. Impregnation can easily be avoided, so long as we’re careful. Our only worry, to be brutally honest, is your obvious lack of interest.”

Lavellan jerked her head back up to eye the top of Solas’ bald head that bobbed up and down with her breathing. He didn’t turn to meet her eye. She settled down again with a groan. “I’m not _uninterested_ , exactly.”

“Not to tie a brick and toss, but keeping secrets from each other has landed us in hot water before.”

Lavellan scoffed, and Solas’ head jumped upwards alongside. “I’m being truthful. I am very much interested in seeing you, all of you. As I always am. Because I love you so much. But …” she paused, “… I’m just a tad frightened, I suppose.”

“Are you afraid of any pain?” Solas asked quietly.

“No. Belly aches and sore muscles I can handle. This is different. This … I …”

Lavellan ran out of words. There was no way to accurately describe what she was feeling. 

It wasn’t just fear; it was also sadness, and anger, and guilt. She felt disappointed at herself for not being able to do this one, simple thing. For inconveniencing Solas with her shortcomings. And if she was truly honest with herself, there was this inexplicable sorrow, deep and expansive, that swells whenever she imagines two lovers enjoying each other like adults should. Many others would be so damn  _happy_  if in her position, and that thought made the sadness pluck within her, like fingers at a bowstring.

It was in implacable sorrow, with no source or cause. But it made her feel ashamed nevertheless.

And as far as she knew, the shame could only be dispelled if she vigilantly saw it through.

So she tugged the hem of her shirt from under Solas, and up and over her head. Solas turned himself to face her, his eyebrows raised with a silent question. Lavellan wrapped her arms around Solas’ shoulders and began the kissing anew while simultaneously sneaking a hand under Solas’ own shirt and petting the bare skin of his torso.

 Solas recuperated the attention by allowing Lavellan’s inexperienced tongue into his mouth, while also softly caressing her naked waist. Lavellan eventually managed to lift his shirt up to his chin, and the two broke the kiss long enough to discard it. They met again, warm skin upon skin.

Both elves had seen each other naked before. They’ve bathed together, slept nude together, and bandaged each other’s wounds. They were intimately familiar with how their naked bodies fit together while snuggled in bed, or under the spray of a waterfall. Lavellan remembered the first time she saw the spray of freckles upon the back of Solas’ neck and shoulders, and how she couldn’t help but poke at the tiny dots, complete with ‘pop’ing sound effects. And she also remembered with fondness the first time Solas saw her external bellybutton, and with a humor fit for a much younger man, had jokingly aligned his own bare belly so that Lavellan … er, penetrated his internal bellybutton with her external one.

Sex itself wasn’t anything to make a fuss about, but Lavellan coveted any new bits of Solas she could discover. She did want to know how he sounded while in pleasure, whether he’d moan, or grunt, or cry out. She wanted to know whether he was more sensitive here, or there. Whether he was slow or hard or fast. What would quicken his pace and make his breath go shallow. How red his face would become, or maybe how pale it’d get.

There was so much they could learn about each other.

Solas leaned Lavellan back down upon the bed and broke the kiss to rest his forehead against her own. His fingers found their way to the hem of her pants, and he asked, “May I take these off?”

“You may,” Lavellan smiled.

Solas kept his eyes upon hers as he slid the thin garment through her thighs and off her legs, discarding it upon the floor. His hands returned to her body and gently massaged at her flank, her hips, and the top of her pelvis. His thumbs inched closer and closer to her clitoris, which quickly grew hard from the teasing. Lavellan inched her legs apart, and Solas took the cue to align his face near her sex.

“I would like to taste you.” he asked quietly, his reverent tone taking the edge off the slight ridiculousness of the words.

Lavellan's throat was swollen shut, so she simply nodded and used a hand to tug the top of her sex upwards for emphasis. Solas slowly and deliberately leaned his head all the way down, first poking at the tender flesh with the cold tip of his nose, which made Lavellan hitch a breath. 

Then she felt the gentlest brush of tongue against her outer folds, which gradually circled its way down into the apex, teasing the flesh. The tongue quickly grew bolder and more solid in its movement, and it dived itself deep within her and began twisting itself against the internal walls. It then suddenly sprung into a rapid flicking that stroked heavily all across. 

Lavellan cried out, her hands grasping at herself from the sensation. Solas continued relentlessly, and reached one hand to thumb steadily at her aching clit, while his other hand reached under Lavellan and lifted her hips upwards. The angle helped Solas reach deeper and more heavily against her.

Her legs were thrown over Solas’ shoulders as her pelvis was suspended helplessly in front of Solas’ mouth. He did not slow his movements. Lavellan writhed and gasped.

A string began to unravel from deep within her, seemingly holding down a condensed ball of emotion that began to swell and grow as the bindings were loosened. She couldn’t place the sensation, but it ballooned into her throat and weighed down upon her bowels. 

Solas continued to worship the dripping apex between her legs, alternating between licking roughly all over, and diving slow and deep within her warmth. His thumb stopped rubbing at her clit and traveled downwards to poke at the entrance below. He paused in his task and, with his tongue still resting heavily upon her, met Lavellan’s eyes with a wordless request.

Lavellan nodded silently, and gave a wavering “O-oh …!” when Solas slowly but firmly entered with one finger, and beckoned against the internal walls. 

The bubble began to rise anew, and Lavellan swallowed in an attempt to gulp down the strange well of emotion that continued to rise. Solas, completely ignorant to the conflict within Lavellan, added another finger and re-arranged his head to lap at her clit while his fingers pounded and clawed away. Wetness stained his mouth, hands, and across Lavellan’s inner thighs. Solas shifted himself to better angle at Lavellan, and she felt a solid bulge from Solas’ crotch that poked at her calf.

Suddenly, Lavellan recognized the bubble that rose within her; numbing, unadulterated terror.

She quickly froze. **Stop** , **STOP** , a voice within her demanded. But that voice was mingled with a second that seemed to be screaming. It resulted in a cacophony that left her paralyzed within the eye of a hurricane. 

Lavellan realized that she had gone stiff and silent. Solas did too, and lowered her body back upon the bed, withdrew himself, and quickly crawled his way across to Lavellan with wide eyes. “Are you alright? How are you feeling?”

Lavellan opened her mouth and was immediately hampered by the dryness in her throat. Solas immediately reached over to the bedstand and poured a glass of water from a pitcher. Lavellan gratefully gulped it down, spilling a few drops because of her shaking hands. 

Damn, her limbs are shaking so hard. 

And why isn’t that strange coldness going away?

Solas held a warm hand upon her back as she drank. Something in his gaze drove her mad. For a second, she wanted nothing more than to strike at his face with full force.

But that strange anger passed as quickly as it came. Lavellan put down the empty glass, feeling very small and naked sitting on the bed, filth between her thighs and a bare-chested man touching her naked back. “I’m sorry.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” _Please don't ask that of me. Don't make me more upset than I am._ “I’m sorry.”

Well, this could have gone better. Gods, what a fool she is.

The two remained silent for a while, both seemingly just as lost as the other. Lavellan shook, Solas still as a statue. She swore she could hear the gears turn within his head.

Without warning, Solas flung his legs off the edge of the bed and walked to the other side of the room. “I think we are done here.”

“Wha - Solas!?” Lavellan cried out. “No! No, just give me a break, and we’ll try something different.”

Solas didn’t respond. He rummaged through a knapsack and pulled out two or three soft woolen shawls, and re-approached the edge of the bed, his expression strange. He splayed the shawls across Lavellan’s naked body and over her head with an odd gentleness, like he was dealing with a wild animal. Lavellan allowed herself to be huddled within the soft fabrics. Only her face was left exposed, the corners of her vision blocked by the cocoon of blankets. 

Her stress began to alleviate grain by grain as she drained her mind of intrusive thoughts and focused solely upon the dark warmth. Her heartbeat slowed and the cold numbness quieted. She couldn’t see Solas, only feel the dip in the mattress that told he sat nearby. She didn’t turn to look at him for several long minutes.

She hadn’t had a sexual partner for many years, and this was the first time she’d actually gotten the idea that this was not how sex was supposed to go. Something in the stiffness of Solas’ shoulders, his silent stare, and tight lips told her that this was very much not ok. That Solas was expecting something very different. And that she was supposed to as well.

After a while, Lavellan decided to not let the silence run any more. “When I asked you to join me in bed, this wasn’t what I imagined would happen,” she tried.

“Yes.” 

Very informative response, Solas.

Lavellan continued. “This has never felt right for me. I’d thought it be better, this time around. Because I know you. I trust you.” And try as she might, she couldn’t keep the small tremor from her voice. “Maybe it wasn’t them, or you, all those times. Maybe it’s me.”

She turned to eye Solas through the small hole of the cocoon. Her stomach lurched upon seeing his expression; wide-eyed and tense. “Was it me?”

Solas didn’t say anything, and held his strange gaze upon Lavellan’s own. Some strange air had entered the room, and it hung like a heavy cloud over the two elves. After a few more seconds of silence, Solas raised one arm to invite Lavellan as invitation for a snuggle. She accepted and scooted herself to rest against Solas’ bare side. His arm wrapped around (what Solas guessed; the blankets muddled her silhouette,) was her shoulders. Solas’ other hand grasped at Lavellan’s cheek and held her head steady so he could duck his head down for a long kiss atop her head. 

“Please. Tell me how you’re feeling.”

“Fine, love. I’m _fine_.”

She couldn’t bear to listen to the fear in Solas’ voice.

“I just don’t feel quite right. It happens. I should have known beforehand.”

“How many times does it happen? Every single time?”

“As far as I know.” Lavern’s voice grew stronger as her strength returned. “It’s a real hassle, believe me."

Solas tightened his grip. “I do, because I empathize. I recognize that look in your eyes, and the shaking in your arms. I know that cold terror well. It’s happened to me, too.”

“Why does it happen, Solas?”

“I don’t know. Obviously, some things aren’t meant to enjoyed by everyone.”

Lavellan snuggled deeper within her bundle, Solas hugged tighter. “… Did you enjoy yourself? Back just now?”

“In a broad sense? Yes. Any time spent with you is enjoyable.”

“But, let me guess - you’d rather we do something else?”

Solas gave a slight shrug of his shoulder, jolting Lavellan the tiniest bit. “That was not on my mind. Giving fellatio is usually preoccupying enough. I was watch your reactions; eventually, I realized that you were stiff under my hands. When you fell silent, I feared the worst. People like us - as in, those who don’t covet sexual intimacy - it’s hard to tell what we want, and when we’re ready to have it.”

“I feel like a child,” Lavellan admitted in a low voice.

“You are certainly no child. Would you call _me_  a child, then?” Solas met Lavellan’s eyes. “If not, don’t sell yourself so short.”

Lavellan forced a small laugh. “I suppose you’re onto something. I’ve such a hard time imagining you as a child; it wouldn’t surprise me if you said that you materialized as you were, bald head and bitter frown alike."

Solas didn’t respond. He continued to caress Lavellan through the thick blankets.

“… does it ever get any easier?” Lavellan whispered.

Solas looked down. “I don’t know. Probably not. Does it matter?”

She turned away from Solas’ eyes and sighed. “I suppose it doesn’t.”

Stewing was all well and good, but Lavellan was tired of the somber air that had overtaken the night. With a shimmy, she slipped out the blankets and quickly re-dressed herself. The smile on her face was only partially forced. “Well, unless we plan to brood all night, I’m in the mood for a different kind of decadence and sin. Where’s that box of petit-fours you brought home the other day?”

The look on Solas’ face plainly displayed his dubiousness, and Lavellan knew that the subject wasn’t yet done. But Solas, ever patient, stood up with a small smile of his own. “Excellent alternative. I had stowed them in the bigger bookshelf.”

Lavellan spun on her heel and left the room, the stress and terror of the night abandoned behind her, for now. Solas followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will be continued, and we'll be following Solas and Lavellan as they explore their asexuality and sex repulsion. Lavellan's reactions are based off of my own. 
> 
> To be honest, this was mainly a vent piece. I've had too many conversations about asexuality where we're not talking on the same level. At worst, people think it's just a 'bad sex' problem. But to me, it's about struggling with the idea that you're unable to consent to sex. Writing it all, in explicit detail, is the only way I could really express the true discomfort and pain that happens.


	2. Bodies

Wisdom is not something you have. Wisdom is a person you desire. Something people aspire to covet. It’s not a cognitive feat to form a belief - any fool with a head can believe with apodeictic certainty, because it takes a thinker to doubt. 

So does a person who doubts not make a fool? 

Lavellan sat numbly at her desk. Doubt occupied her mind, and she certainly didn’t feel wise.

With a groan, she straightened from her slouched position and stretched herself. The back of her palm hit something cool and soft, which let out a quiet ‘mmph’ at the contact.

She spun around (cracking her shoulder blades uncomfortably in the process; perhaps she was getting old) and saw a sheepish Solas behind her.

No need for a thrashing, I’m merely here to get my affairs.” He rubbed at his cheek and mocked a hurt look.

Lavellan gave an incredulous chuff and wordlessly pointed at a pile of sketches that sat upon a nearby shelf. Solas complied, and went to gather them. 

It had been a couple days since Lavellan and Solas had lain together for the first time. They hadn’t brought up the subject since then, but Lavellan knew that the subject weighed heavily upon both their minds. She knew Solas too well to imagine that he had completely dropped the issue.

But Lavellan wasn’t ready to discuss it further. What could she possibly say? What did she THINK would happen? Neither elf walked away with anything to cherish from the experience. And Lavellan remained as confused and small as ever. She didn’t want to make it worse, and she couldn’t think of anything that could make it better.

She didn’t want to make the issue bigger than it was. As far as she was concerned, she simply overreacted, and it cast a dark cloud over what should have been a fun evening. Both she and Solas were grown-ups, and they can handle a simple bedroom mishap, damn it. 

It’s funny, Lavellan thought to herself bitterly; they’ve confronted and survived so many conflicts and troubles thrown their way, and its a lovemaking cut short that throws such a huge wrench into the gears. A voice deep within the back of her mind began to stir at the thought. Because a part of Lavellan believed this issue to be a serious concern, in multiple ways. But the louder, more frightened part of her ignored that voice, and could only bear thinking of it all as a minor concern. The two voices combatted against each other in a cacophony of mixed messages.

She knew that Solas would only let the matter rest for so long. Solas wasn’t the type of person who let problems fester. Lavellan needed the space, but eventually the subject would grow too heavy between the two. It would have to be tackled sooner or later. It wasn’t the first time they’ve let problems fester amongst them, and both knew better than to let miscommunication and secret-keeping muddle the waters yet again.

She could only imagine what Solas must be thinking. How do people usually react when their life partner has a panic episode after only a few minutes of … not even sex, but something more like heavy petting? Does he blame himself? Unlikely, because Lavellan doesn’t blame him either. But she can tell that it does bother him. Maybe it just makes him … sad. No blame, guilt, or fear. Just empathy for her pain. 

If Lavellan knew Solas as well as she thinks she does, she’d believe that Solas would rather Lavellan approach the issue, rather than have Solas pry and make her more uncomfortable than she already was. So as Solas exited the room, she vowed to resolve the topic tonight.

And afterwards … well. Maybe they could try again, and find something that doesn’t cause a minor disaster. 

And then maybe Lavellan, legendary Herald of Andraste and the world’s Keeper, wouldn’t feel so small.

—

The rest of the day passed as normal. Lavellan worked her plans, Solas his, and the two met occasionally to coincide their progress. It was careful but steady; neither elf was in great rush to achieve anything. They had until the end of the world, after all.

But some things couldn’t wait until the end of the world. Solas stood upon a forest cliffside, using a compass to measure the magical energy in the air. Lavellan stood nearby and watched as the day’s dying sun cast orange over them both.

She silently approached his side. Solas continued squinting through the compass needle and fiddling with the ruler, and acknowledged Lavellan’s presence with a simple, “Something on your mind?”

Lavellan heaved a soft sigh. “… do you think us a failure as lovers?”

With that, Solas became uncharacteristically still. He stowed away the compass in one swift motion and turned full frontal face-to-face with Lavellan. “Do you?”

Lavellan turned from his intense glare. “If I was honest? Perhaps. Lovers are people who desire one another. And we never have. Desired one another, I mean.” She turned back, and Solas’ face was unreadable. “Not desired as in … body. Things. Er.” Lavellan gave another sigh. “What I mean to say is …  what I mean - what are your feelings towards me, Solas?”

To her mild surprise, Solas responded without a beat. “It’s simple. I love you.”

“Yes, but -“ Lavellan felt her face grow hot from frustration, “a miser loves his gold. A carpenter loves his craft. A child loves sweets after dinner. I know what love is. But I don’t know what we have, if it’s not love.”

“Whomever decided love to be synonymous with whatever one thing?” Solas’ voice was as steady as ever, but Lavellan could tell he was getting emotional as well. “and why would you care?”

“Do you love me, Solas? Do you truly?”

“Here’s a better question; do _you_  think you love me?”

Lavellan frowned. This conversation wasn’t going the way she wished.

Solas continued, “Because I believe with no reservation that you truly and utterly love me. And I believe this because I feel loved by you. No matter what you can or can’t do.”

“Oh, was it that obvious? You really know how to cut to the chase.”

“So you don’t have impure feelings towards me. What a loss, however shall I continue. And how horrible would it be if you found out that I have no desire for you. It’d be such a detriment on our relationship. Our relationship that, I’ll remind, began with words and embraces and promises and understanding, and grew so strong, you followed me to the end of the world and beyond,” Solas gestured to the fantastic landscape surrounding them both. “You don’t seem to realize - we’ve already _been_  intimate. Very intimate. With each other. We’ve seen each other’s hearts and secrets and inner wishes. That’s why we’re lovers.”

“I know, but -“

“But nothing. We’ve had obstacles thrown between us throughout the years, and none of them have been because you would not lay with me. You’re perfect exactly as you are, timid and all."

It was too much at once, and her face grew red. “Leave off! Is this honestly some big disaster to you? I didn’t take you for someone who plays nanny for idiot fools that just regret a bad lay!”

Solas’ face turned stony as he let Lavellan’s words hang in the silence. She felt her ire falter as the weight of her own spite began to sink in.

“You should be careful with that fire. You never know who could be listening in,” Solas said in a low voice. His fists were clenched.

Solas rarely had a real temper. He was passionate, fiery, and emotionally invested in many things, but he almost never ACTUALLY shouted or raged. Whenever he was authentically set off, his voice would lower and his eyes would shine with a mad glint, as opposed to when he wanted to ramble about whatever given subject, and his voice would rise in volume as he grew more animated. Lavellan rarely saw that dangerous glint in his eye, for good reason. 

Because of how rarely he was truly angered, Lavellan still wasn’t sure what and who could push Solas to that limit. Even insulating the most hateful rhetoric, or voicing violent speech, could only affect him so much. He’d lecture and make a grand speech, perhaps throw in a few words that bit and stung, but that was still a long ways off from his true temper. Only twice has she seen his rage with her own eyes. And each time, lives were nearly lost. 

But there were stories, of course. The Dread Wolf’s biggest mistakes and downfalls can all be attributed to his impulsive reaction to Mythal’s betrayal. The younger Solas had gone from anti-monarchal revolutionary to a warmongering general, just like how Solas can go from passionate theorist-scholar to a man who wouldn’t hesitate to immolate hapless victims of his ire. 

Right now, Lavellan could feel Solas’ rage grow dangerously close to that point, and she couldn’t help but shy away. But it was gone in a split second, replaced by the typical bitter irritation that he usually sported when brought low. She knew that her words had gone too far, and from the tiniest dredge of sadness and pain that she could spot in his glare, she had an inkling why.

And the realization hit her like a brick wall. Never had she considered that perhaps, she was not alone in this. Yes, Solas had previously claimed solidarity, but it wasn’t until she saw her own pain and bitterness mirrored in his eyes did it fully sink in. 

Now she knew why her own self-destructiveness affected Solas so much. Because for every harm she brought upon herself, it affected him too, for the exact same reasons. 

Lavellan’s body deflated as she felt the rage suddenly dissipate, leaving her feeling exhausted. For a while, both just stood in silence, not meeting each other’s eyes. Lavellan saw Solas’ shoulders buckle with a nonexistent weight.

Solas might not see her as a failure, but she definitely felt like one.

Lavellan finally broke the silence with a low “... didn’t think it’d be this difficult.”

Solas didn’t answer, but the look on his face reflected her own somber disappointment. 

-

That night, both elves avoided sleep. Solas disappeared into the never-ending forest that surrounded the plane, while Lavellan cloistered herself in an abandoned stone hut that was half drowned in a nearby pond. She sat staring into the water, regarding her reflection with a jaundiced eye.

She disrobed completely and observed her own bare skin. Multiple body scars. Left arm cauterized from the upper elbow down. Brown skin, dark hair in thick lines on her chest, belly, and limbs. Raised brown stripes around her hips and belly that arched amongst the many nicks and indents from years of violence and struggle. It was the body of a warrior, a hero.

It was also a body that curdles like milk when a lover lays their hand upon it. And that made the rest seem so far away.

Lavellan placed a hand upon her inner thigh, remembering Solas' warm touch upon that very place. Her lower stomach gave an uncomfortable _lurch_ , so she pulled away. Her eyes continued to scan her naked reflection, seemingly looking for something.

It was all going so well. When did it get so strange and unfamiliar? 


End file.
